Harry Potter and the Graveyard of Memories
by kremlinmirrors
Summary: My independent project to write my version of HP Book 7. It is important to note that this skips events from book 6. Please RR, thank you! GinnyDraco, RonHermione
1. Goodbyes

**Goodbyes**

Harry Potter stared out at the lazy fog that drifted over the crumbling sidewalks of Pivet Drive. The strange weather had worsened over the course of the previous few weeks and the usually scorching temperatures had dropped to a measly forty degrees Fahrenheit in the sun – when there was any. The neighborhood's quiet inhabitants had shut their doors to the biting wind and retreated inside their warm homes to the comforts of crackling fireplaces and flickering televisions.

Harry, however, had no such luck escaping from the drenching wet cold. The Dursleys had yet to replace their destroyed electric fireplace, but the stone chasm behind the rubble was still unused and the only firewood was the remnants of the last time someone had visited via the floo network. That had been long ago, years by Harry's memory. Consequently, the house was chilly.

His room itself was, in fact, the coldest in the house. The Dursleys had purposely disconnected any heating directed through his end of the house, as if to remind him that he was quite unwanted in their home. Harry had hoped that Dumbledore's last visit and the clear cut fact that it would be Harry's last summer at the Dursleys would encourage some kind of respect towards him for just a few weeks. It seemed, however, that even the thought of being rid of Harry was not enough for the Dursleys to treat him as anything other than a mosquito on all of their necks.

On this particular day, Harry huddled in the corner of his room closest to the hallway, his untidy black hair tossed across his face to hide the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Petunia had refused to take Harry to get his hair cut since he had returned from school, but Harry had recently decided that he liked the length. It kept him from being recognized too often on the streets – he was no longer gawked at by members of the wizarding world when Aunt Petunia dragged him out to help with the grocery shopping.

On his eleventh birthday, Harry had discovered that he was, in fact, a wizard. It was a strange birthday gift but one that Harry had accepted with excitement, as he would be leaving his aunt and uncle's house and enrolling in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His past six years at the school had been a strange mix of magical education and an attempt to defeat the most evil dark wizard of all time.

Despite his magical proficiency and courage, Harry still found himself stuck at the Dursleys every summer in order to secure his protection from Lord Voldemort. This year, the summer before his seventeenth birthday and coming of age, would be Harry's last time spent with his aunt and uncle.

He was excited.

Harry sat, trembling in his corner, planning for his next summer without the Dursleys. Where would he live, what would he do? Upon meeting his godfather, Sirius, four years prior, Harry would have given anything to stay with his newfound family. But now Sirius was dead, his old house nothing but an aching wound in Harry's possession. The young wizard was thrilled that the Order had stayed on at 12 Grimmauld Place – Harry would never be able to live their without thinking of Sirius.

For the time being, however, Harry was simply waiting for the day when Dumbledore would show up and whisk him away. That day had not arrived, though, and after three weeks of torment from his aunt, uncle, and Dudley, Harry was ready to leave.

The stay had been made even worse by Dudley's new regime of having his gang friends over for dinner. The summer before, they had switched off having "tea" at each other's houses, but this year Dudley found it necessary to entertain them every night of the week. They had moved on from beating up scrawny boys at their school to hitting on the catholic school girls from across the road – Harry found it both sickening and hilarious that Dudley's gang even hoped to speak to one of the pretty ladies.

As Harry sat, lost in thought, there came a loud _thump_ at his window. He jumped, his glasses falling askew as Hedwig flapped her wings and gawked noisily at the disturbance.

"What the bloody hell..." Harry mumbled as he straightened his glasses and walked over to the window. He opened it and none other than Pig tumbled into his room, bringing with him the frosty night air. Harry slammed the window shut quickly and scooped up the mangled ball that spasmed on his floor.

After receiving numerous scratches and claw marks over his arms, Harry finally managed to untie a letter from Pig's leg and unroll the parchment. Pig hooted thankfully and hopped over to Hedwig's cage to find the water. Harry nodded his head and bent down to read his letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm sorry that Ron and I couldn't write sooner, we've been so busy helping with all kinds of things for the Order! Please don't worry, it hasn't been anything interesting. Mostly a continuation of cleaning up the house and such._

_We wanted to know what to do with all of Sirius's things. Do you want them packed up or would you rather his room was left as it was? I'm sorry that we have to ask, only it is all yours and we wouldn't want you to be upset._

_You can let us know when you get here – someone from the Order will come to pick you up sometime this week. I don't know when, it's been really hectic and we've only just found time to let you know. _

_We'll see you soon!_

_**Hermione**_

Harry looked up from his letter, relieved that he wouldn't have to put up with the Dursleys for much longer. Just as he took a breath of relief, there came a loud knocking on the door.

"I know you're in there with your ruddy owls, the whole lot hooting away in the night!" Vernon shouted gruffly. "If you want the diseased things in your room, fine, but I will NOT have them pecking away at the front door!"

Harry quickly opened the door to find his uncle standing in the doorway, his face beet red and his ears fuming.

"Go on then, shoo it off!" he barked and retreated down the stairs. Harry begrudgingly followed, wondering why any owl would not have come straight to his window. As he opened the door, a charcoal black owl fluttered into his hand and hooted angrily. It seemed in a hurry to be off somewhere, so Harry quickly untied the parchment from its foot.

_If you have received this letter, find Kreacher. He is hiding it from prying eyes._

Harry checked the owl's leg for any other scrolls of parchment, but there was nothing but the cryptic message. The owl flapped its wings, trying to escape Harry's hold.

"Oy, hang on a minute, I want to send a return letter," he said, slightly annoyed.

But the owl angrily bit down on his hand, causing him to let go. It flew off into the night.

"What was all that about?" Harry asked himself as he returned to the house and shut the door behind him. He didn't have long to ponder the strange occurrence, however, before Aunt Petunia came shuffling down the hallway.

"You – come and help set the table," she barked. "We're having the Polkesses over for dinner and I expect them to feel at home."

Harry grumbled but walked over to the kitchen and opened the cutlery drawer. He carefully picked out the nicest set and began to place them on the table.

"Not there you stupid boy, Margaret is left handed!" Petunia spat, fussing about Harry and removing the cutlery from his possession. She began to lay the table herself, muttering under her breath about useless nephews being left on her doorstep. Harry turned away too early to notice Petunia glance at him with a strange mix of pity and annoyance in her eyes.

Relieved of his table-setting duties, Harry wandered over to the family room and attempting to watch the news over his cousin Dudley's shoulders.

"Oy, watch it! Mum didn't say you could be down here. Now go away, I'm watching the tele."

"Oh yeah? Well now I'm watching as well. Free country, isn't it?" Harry retorted.

"Muuuuum," Dudley whined, "Harry won't leave me alone. Tell him to go upstairs, pleeeeease?"

"Harry, upstairs. Now." Petunia ordered from the kitchen. Harry glared at Dudley and spun on the balls of his feet to go back upstairs. It was then that he overheard the reporter's next story.

_...and in other news, government officials yesterday received word that Sirius Black, escaped convict and murderer of thirteen, has been spotted in London this past weekend..._

Harry wasn't the only one to stare at the television in surprise. Dudley jumped in his seat upon hearing the name of Harry's godfather, and Harry distinctly heard dishes shatter in the kitchen. Petunia tried her best to cover up the surprise by screaming at Harry for leaving the trash can in her way, but she hurried out to the family room all the same. The only member of the family not present through the newscast was Uncle Vernon who was busy taking a shower.

_...the public is warned that Black is armed and dangerous. He is suspected to be in league with at least four escaped criminals, all sightings should be reported to a special hotline..._

Harry started at the television as the reporter continued to list Black's latest whereabouts and his photo was flashed onscreen. _He's dead and they still insult his memory,_ Harry thought to himself bitterly. His godfather deserved better than this desecration.

"Dudley, turn that wretched thing off," Petunia spat, turning back to clear up the dishes in the kitchen. Harry had never seen her so..._upset._ Petunia never ordered Dudley to do _anything_, especially related to the television. Not only that, she was clearing up her own mess. It bothered Harry to the point of questioning.

"Aunt Petunia, why—"

Harry was cut off by the sharp ring of the doorbell. He heard Uncle Vernon come storming down the hall, bickering with himself.

"..having the cheek to show up early, I don't give a damn if they're related to Dudley's friend..."

Harry opened his mouth to ask if he should leave, but Vernon had already shoved past him in order to open the door. Harry's uncle straightened his shirt proudly as he grinned at the visitor, but his amusement quickly vanished when he realized that the stranger on the doorstep was not, in fact, Mr. and Mrs. Polkess.

The man on the doorstep was dark haired and clad in jet black robes. He did not look like he was enjoying the chilly weather, neither was he thrilled to see Vernon's plump face staring back at him. His gaze pierced every layer of Vernon's chubby stature to where Harry stood.

"I am Professor Snape," he said, his lip curling. "I am here to collect Harry from your care."

Harry gulped back his surprise as Snape welcomed himself inside the house. Unlike Dumbledore when he visited the Dursley household, Snape was content to stand in the hallway as Uncle Vernon gawked at his sinister appearance.

"You can't just barge in here!" Vernon growled as he gained his courage back. "And why didn't we know about you coming here, eh? By the look on his face, the boy didn't even know!"

"That is correct," Snape smirked. "Mr.Potter did not, in fact, know that I was coming. Be that as it may, I expect him to be packed and ready to leave in ten minutes, or I shall leave him here for the summer."

Harry made direct eye contact with Snape before hurrying upstairs to gather his things. He didn't want to be left behind so he quickly threw everything in his trunk, gathered Hedwig's cage under one arm, and went to move everything. Before leaving, however, Harry took one last look around his room. He could still see the splintered wood where the Weasley's Ford Anglia had ripped out the bars that crossed his windows, or the tiny food flap that Vernon had installed in his door one year past. He couldn't believe that it would be the last time he saw the place.

On his way to meet Snape in the hallway, Harry said a silent goodbye to his cupboard under the stairs. The place held so many memories for him – terrible memories, but it had still been a safe haven for him through so many hungry nights.

"Potter, if you don't get down here in the next-"

"I'm here. Sir." Harry said forcefully as he dragged his trunk to the front of the house. Vernon looked down on him with his usual grumpy demeanor but Petunia stood watching Harry as if deep in thought.

"Um, well...thanks," Harry said awkwardly as Snape lead him out of the house. Vernon grunted slightly and Dudley yelled a "so long, sucker!" from the living room. Petunia, however, stepped forward and took Harry's hand.

"I'm sorry," she said solemnly before following Vernon into the house and shutting the door carefully behind her.


	2. Disorder

**AN: **So, this chapter is clearly not finished. However, I was hoping to prompt some reviews. I'm hoping some people might pop by. R/R, please!

**Disorder**

Harry didn't speak as Snape lead him down Pivet Drive and Magnolia Crescent. His mind begged to know how they would be getting back to Gimmauld Place, but he knew better than to ask Snape questions. The potions master continued walking for a few blocks in silence before he whipped around and pointed his wand straight at Harry.

"Stay here, do you understand? I have business to attend to before we return to headquarters. I will know if you wander off."

Snape forced Harry to sit down on a nearby bench before disappearing into the night.

"Where in the world is he going?" Harry asked Hedwig, receiving only a feeble hoot in return. "Dumbledore will have his head if he knows that he left me out here in the middle of the night, what with dementors running loose."

"I wouldn't worry about that, dear," came a croaky voice from behind the shrubbery. Harry jumped up off the bench and took out his wand, prepared for an attack.

"It's only me, Harry, dear." Old Mrs. Figg climbed out from behind the bushes, a small white cat draped across her shoulder. "You look in a deadful state, what happened?" The old woman reached up to smooth out Harry's hair. It simply popped back into its crazy mess when she was done.

"Nothing, I was just a bit...surprised that...er..._Professor_ Snape came to get me, is all. I was hoping it would be Dumbledore."

Harry put his wand away and sat down again, soon after accompanied by Ms. Figg.

"Well, dear, old Albus has been very busy. I'm sure he would have come himself if he could, but Snape volunteered and we just needed you back safe and sound."

"He _volunteered_?" Harry said in amazement. "Something is definitely wrong in that man's head."

"Now now, Severus knows what he's doing," Mrs. Figg said, shaking her head. "He'll be back in a flash."

Harry nodded glumly and stared out over Magnolia Crescent, wondering why Snape would volunteer to pick him up from Pivet Drive. Even if Dumbledore was busy, why didn't someone else come to get him? Any of the members of the order would have been happy to come and fetch him whether it be Mr. Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, or even Mad Eye. Harry grinned stupidly as he imagined the Dursley's reaction if Moody had showed up on their doorstep, his mechanical eye sweeping over Aunt Petunia's begonias.

"Potter, must we always wait to indulge your fantasies?" Snape said sharply, waking Harry from his thoughts. "We will continue."

Harry looked up, wondering where Snape had suddenly appeared from. Besides, how would he have a clue what Harry was thinking? _He's an accomplished Legilimens_, Harry remembered someone telling him the year before. Was Snape really inclined to explore Harry's thoughts, even now in the darkness of his own neighborhood?

"Sir, how are we getting to..um...London?" Harry asked quietly, grunting as he lead his trunk down the street.

"Ah, of course. You still haven't passed your apparition test. Most unfortunate." Snape replied. His lip curled back in a surly grin and Harry was not convinced that Snape had indeed forgotten his lack of apparating skills.

"Professor Dumbledore practiced Side-Along Apparition when I was with him, Sir." Harry replied.

"Dumbledore would be so inclined. I, however, will not be responsible for an ungrateful wretch such as you, Mr. Potter."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

"You haven't insulted me once this entire trip. What have I done to you, Snape? We're on the same side, if you remember correctly!"

Professor Snape turned around and glared at Harry.

"_It's more the fact that you exist, you see._" he spat sharply. Harry shuddered as he remembered his trip into Snape's memory. His father, the arrogant man that he was. Lily screaming for him to stop. Lily screaming..._no, not Harry!_...a green flash of light...

Harry snapped out of his trance as he heard screeching tires and burning rubber. As he opened his eyes, the Knight Bus spun around the corner, careening towards where he stood. He flew backwards into the hedges as the bus screamed to a stop before him.

"Potter, this is no time to be picking flowers." Snape enunciated, paying Stan Shunpike and stepping onto the bus. Harry stood up, brushed off his clothes and straightened his glasses.

"Oy, it's Harry Potter! Much obliged to have you on 'ere again, Mr. Potter." Stan took his trunk as Harry stepped onto the bus. The length of the bus was once again filled with beds as it was the first night that he had ever ridden. He was on the run then, desperate to hide from the world. Now felt quite the same – anyone could be under Lord Voldemort's control. He couldn't be too careful.

Harry walked over and sat down on a bed across from Professor Snape. He tried not to look at his potions teacher, choosing instead to fascinate himself in the many people on the bus. An old woman in a frilly dress and hat was busy picking herself up from the front corner of the bus. Another young man with mousy brown hair was attempting to repair his shattered glasses. The strangest patron was a figure draped in dirty brown robes at the far end of the bus. From the small portion that Harry could see of his angular face, he looked quite familiar. Still, Harry could not place him, and as soon as the figure met Harry's gaze, it turned back to the window and pulled its hood further over its shadowed features.

The bus ride to London was rather uneventful. Harry spent most of him time trying not to spill his breakfast as the purple menace twisted and turned through the busy streets. Professor Snape appeared unbothered by the sickening maneuvers of their ride – he was immersed in a thick, dusty, slowly decaying book. Harry tried to take no notice of it, but Snape kept mumbling to himself in a low voice and rubbing his right arm. Harry wondered if the book was something given to him for his work with the Death Eaters – this possibility made Harry even more curious to know what the text read.

He didn't much to contemplate the mystery, however, as the Knight Bus came to a grinding halt outside a muggle bus stop in London. Harry struggled to get off as he had to fight his way past two bickering women and a bulldog. Finally he managed to get himself, his trunk, and Hedwig's cage off of the bus without killing himself. Stan waved a hearty goodbye and the bus shot off into the next block.

Professor Snape stood before Harry, _hem hem_ing in a very Umbridge-way. Harry wondered for a moment how she was doing but quickly shifted his concentration to following Snape down the sidewalk. Somehow the teacher didn't find the need to cast a glamour or take a back route to Grimmauld Place – he lead Harry cleanly through the busy streets. Quite a few of the muggles gave Harry and Snape dirty looks as they sped by. Harry wasn't surprised – he was carrying a heavy trunk and an owl in a cage while Snape was dressed in flowing black robes. Anyone would have been suspicious.

After a confusing and speedy walk and a few near-collisions with passersby, Harry and Snape arrived at Grimmauld Place. The first time Harry had been here, there had been nothing between numbers 11 and 13. After being shown a slip of paper scribbed with the words _The Order of the Phoenix resides at 12 Grimmauld Place, London_, the building had expanded from nothingness to squeeze between the two adjacent houses. This time, however, the building was already clearly visible when he arrived. Harry followed Snape inside and securely shut the door behind him.

"HARRY!" came a hearty female voice from the kitchen. Hermione came rushing out, her bushy long hair spiraling out behind her. Bushy hair...Harry looked at it again, this time for a full ten seconds longer. It was beautifully curled, and surprisingly silky. Bushy was definitely not a word to describe Hermione's long golden locks.

"Hermione, what in the world did you do to your hair?!" Harry asked incredulously.

"Oh, do you like it?" Hermione spun around. "It was complimented so much during the Yule Ball that I decided to make it permanent. It takes a bit of work on the mornings, but it's so much smoother." Hermione twisted a lock around her finger. "Besides, Ron thought it looked cute."

"Yeah, where is Ron, anyway?" Harry asked, looking around. He noticed that his trunk and Hedwig's cage were still sitting in the hall. Clearly Snape found it below himself to help with anything.

"Ah, Ron went to stay with Fred and George for the weekend," Hermione answered, picking up Hedwig's cage to help carry it upstairs. Harry grabbed his trunk and the two of them set off to the second floor. "Mrs. Weasley didn't want him to go at all, but the twins convinced her otherwise. Said that _Ickle Ronniekins_ needed to watch some real businessmen at work. Something about 'they didn't want another Percy in the family', and of course that set her right off, and she said to hell with it, Ron may as well go since there wasn't much to do here.

"Ah, well I'm sure it'll be an interesting experience for him," Harry smiled. "As long as he doesn't come back with any side effects. She'll never forgive them."

Harry opened the door to his room and dumped his trunk at the end of the bed. Hermione set Hedwig's cage on the wood desk and smoothed out Harry's bedsheets. Her golden hair sparkled in the soft glow of the bedside lamp and Harry wondered why he had never noticed it before. Whatever she had done with it was amazing. Her entire head glinted...

"Harry, dear, I didn't know you were here already!" Mrs. Weasley popped her head in the door. "You weren't expected until tomorrow morning, Remus said he couldn't get off duty until then."

"Oh, uh, Lupin was supposed to get me?" Harry asked curiously.

"Of course...why?" Molly asked, cocking her head to one side nervously.

"Professor Snape came to get me, that's all. Said he volunteered or something."

"Oh. How strange..." Mrs. Weasley replied. "Well, you're here now, so it doesn't matter much. I just hope that Remus knows you're here...I'd better let him know."

Molly, slightly flustered, hurried back downstairs to deliver the message. Harry quickly ran to the window to see a silvery mist in the form of a dog bounce of into the night. Harry supposed that Tonks must be downstairs, though why she hadn't come to say hello, he didn't know...

"Harry, we should probably get down there," said Hermione. "Ginny was roped into making dinner tonight, so she's stuck in the kitchen. I'm sure she would love to see you, though."

"Is Phlegm...er...Fleur still around?" Harry asked as they trampled down the stairs.

"Of course." Hermione rolled her eyes. "She shows up almost every day now, unless Bill's off somewhere, in which case she's always with him. Guardian angel from hell is you ask me."

Harry laughed. He had never heard Hermione talk so badly about someone apart from Draco Malfoy. It was refreshing to hear sarcasm from someone other than Ron.


End file.
